Antigoddess

Athena stood and gestured toward her fallen brother.

“Like this? Are you mad? He’s dead. You’ll save yourself by killing your family?”

Hera looked at him, and for a moment it seemed that sadness flickered across her hardening face.

“He was a stepson, only. Another bastard put upon me by my husband. Yet I would’ve welcomed him, had he not forgotten what you’ve forgotten. That he was a god. That gods are not meant to die.”

Aphrodite scurried to her, Poseidon’s decapitated head clutched to her breast.

“They killed him! They killed him!”

“And she killed Aidan!” Athena shouted, and Aphrodite edged toward Hera’s protecting arms.

Hera cocked her head.

“Who?” Then she studied Aidan’s jeans, his hooded sweatshirt. She shook her head, disgusted, and stroked Aphrodite’s hair. “I know, pet. I felt the sea god’s light go out. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I would’ve ground them to paste before they ever touched him.”

Athena took quick stock. What did they have? A slow Dodge and a fleet-footed god with a broken ankle. Their getaway would be sad and short.

“Why are you doing this?”

Hera snorted. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Do you really think you can kill us all? All of us and these mortals besides?”

“I know I can.”

Hera whispered to Aphrodite and she slipped quietly to the side of the road, Poseidon’s blood mingling with the dirt streaks on her green and blue dress as she hugged it. “I lived with mortals too, you know. I loved them. Raised them.” She shrugged. “I even married a few. But I never forgot what I really was. The choice between them and us isn’t a choice. It’s just us.”

“Us. But not Hermes and me.”

Hera cocked her head. “Perhaps Hermes. But not you.”

Athena turned an ear back to Hermes, half wondering if the next sound she heard would be his feet, dragging and hopping to the other side of the battle line. Instead she felt the press of his shoulder against her.

“And why not Athena?” Hermes asked. “What’s she done? She’s not a bastard, not a betrayal of you by your husband. He made her out of himself. No paramour required.”

Athena watched Hera’s jaw set bitterly.

That’s why. All this time. All these years. That’s why she’s never been a mother to me, when she was the only mother I knew. I was evidence that she wasn’t necessary.

“Athena.” Cassandra spoke quietly from where she knelt, holding Aidan’s cold hand. Athena turned toward her. “This is what I saw. Why Aidan turned us back. The blue sky and evergreens. The silver-black of asphalt on the highway. Hera’s face, vicious and full of glory, even as chunks of granite form on her arms and shoulders. I remember the exact sensation of striking her skin.” She looked at Aidan’s empty face. “I remember the light going out.” She stroked his pale cheek, then turned to Athena with steel in her eyes. “This is it. This is the end.”

“The end?” Athena looked down at her. “But it can’t be.”

“I don’t have all day, stepdaughter,” Hera called. Her kitten heels tapped against the road. “Come closer so I can kill you and your half brother.”

Athena couldn’t form a thought. As she looked at Aidan’s body, Hera’s words landed sour, like a wrong strike against a tuning fork. They made her spine twitch and sent sharp bursts of rage ringing across her surface.

“Apollo lost his life to save a mortal girl. So now I will too.”

“No,” Cassandra said, and grasped her wrist. “You can’t stop it.”

“It’s not a choice. He wanted you safe. And we need you safe, so—”

“No.” She clenched her fist around Athena’s arm. Athena’s mouth dropped open. Where the girl touched her, it burned. Like the tingling on her face, after she’d slapped her. She looked up, her chest full suddenly with absurd hope and the words of Demeter urgent in her ears. She could be the key to everything.…

Cassandra trembled, then grew still.

“I feel it too, whatever it is. And I’ve seen this. I’ve seen this day and this fight. I’m in it with you.”

Athena looked at her, deep into her brown eyes. What is this thing? Like looking at a frozen surface through a pane of glass. She didn’t know what it was exactly. But she knew it was power.

She grasped Cassandra’s hand. “How does it end?”

Cassandra shook her head.

Athena nodded. “Okay.”

They took a deep breath. Conviction laced the air between them, white hot.

“I don’t know how much strength is left in me,” said Athena.

“Enough,” Cassandra said softly. She looked one last time at Aidan’s face.

Together, they rose to their feet and looked down the road. Hera stood with Aphrodite hiding behind. The stone fist hung heavily at her side. More patches of stone were visible too, spattering her neck and cheeks with flecks of gray granite. She wore a finely woven black coat and dark blue jeans. She looked cold, almost indifferent. Someone who didn’t know her would never guess at her violent temperament. She kept it carefully hidden. Swallowing so much vindictiveness and rage must have been like swallowing shards of metal.

“I don’t know how much use you’ll be with a crushed foot,” Athena said to Hermes. “But keep the others safe, if you can.” She glanced over her shoulder at Odysseus. When she turned away, he caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

“Athena.” They looked at each other for a long second. Fear shone plain in his eyes, and for a moment she thought he might actually say it, that he might actually grab her and kiss her and throw her completely off her game. Instead he smiled his cockeyed smile and pushed the tire iron from the Dodge into her hand.

“Don’t get hit,” he said quietly. She wrapped her fingers around the weapon.

Good advice.

“Give up the girl,” Hera commanded.

“And you’ll let us live?” Athena asked sarcastically.

Hera smirked. “Of course not.”

Athena looked over at Cassandra, who stared straight ahead. She didn’t know what she was doing, leading a mortal against the Titans’ queen. It felt crazy. It felt against everything she’d ever known about war and battle and strategy. It felt completely right.

When she walked, the girl walked with her. The tire iron settled into her palm. As they came closer, Aphrodite scurried away, a rat going to hide in the sewers and wait until it was all over. Hera bared her teeth. The stone fist twitched. There would be no bombs this time, no tricks. She wants the satisfaction of murdering me with her bare hands.

“How noble. Standing against me together? All for one and one for all?”

Athena clenched her jaw. “Me first.” The tire iron spun, slicing through the air as she ran and sprang, using it to strike and slash. Hera ducked and dodged, her face a twisted grimace. When the iron finally connected, it caught her in the back of the shoulder and barely knocked her forward.

In the corner of her eye, Athena saw a flash of granite and pulled out of the way.

Don’t get hit.

* * *

Cassandra watched Athena and Hera, fists and iron, moving sharply through the air. Fear laced through her insides, but it wasn’t alone. An odd certainty ran in her blood, infusing it with heat. She knew what she had seen in her vision. She remembered what the world had looked like, flying by. Her death was here. And it wasn’t. The images shimmered, becoming transparent. She should have been terrified. She should have been mad with grief, collapsed over Aidan’s body. Instead she waited. Waited for Athena to give her an opening.

* * *

Athena was struggling. Speed was the key, both to landing blows and to keeping her skull in one piece. But it was also tiring. Hitting Hera was like hitting twelve tons of rock. It sent painful shock waves all the way up to her